For God So Loved The World

For God So Loved The World

“For God so loved the world, that He gave His only Son, that whoever believes in Him should not perish but have eternal life.”

John 3:16

John tells the story of a man named Nicodemus.

The Bible says he was a ruler of the Jews, which means he was the kind of guy that was always in church. In fact, he wasn’t just in church, he was the head honcho of the church. Very religious. Always reading the Bible.

And yet, the irony of Jesus’ life is that it was the church-goers that didn’t feel a need to know Him at all. Jesus once said that He didn’t come to call the healthy, but the sick. He didn’t come to hang out with the self-righteous church goers, but the messy street people. And that’s exactly what He did.

And yet Nicodemus was curious. John tells us that he approached Jesus by night. He was too embarrassed to admit his desire to know Jesus in front of all of his church buddies, and so he tracked Him down after the sun had set.

“Teacher, we know that you come from God, for no one can do these signs that you do unless God is with him.” Nicodemus said, surely recounting the conversations his church friends had had in the tabernacle earlier that day or week, pondering who this guy Jesus was and how He was turning water into wine.

I don’t know what Nicodemus was expecting Jesus to say, but like always Jesus blows him away by the words that come out of his mouth:

“Truly, truly, I say to you, unless one is born again he cannot see the Kingdom of God… For God so loved the world, that He gave His only Son, that whoever believes in Him should not perish but have eternal life.”

 

John doesn’t tell us how Nicodemus reacted, but there is no doubt that he was surprised. He had to have been. He was a religious man, and his whole life he had studied the Law – what he should or shouldn’t do, and yet Jesus says nothing of the sort. He doesn’t meet Nicodemus with a list of rules or a pep talk to “do better”.

Instead, Jesus talks about rebirth. And sacrificial love. And life.

And that’s the gospel. It’s the fact that when each and every one of us approaches Jesus in our secret heart, in the comfort of the night, hidden from everyone waiting to judge us, we aren’t given condemnation. John doesn’t tell us that Jesus told Nicodemus off for hiding from his friends, or not knowing what to say. It only tells us that Jesus told him the extent of His love, and that he can be born again. He can start anew.

Because we need to know that. Each and every one of us. God loves us so much that He would send His Son on a rescue mission to find us in our darkest nights.

And later we will learn that Jesus, God’s very Son, would die to prove His love. He would die to take our death, so that we would never doubt how much God loves us.

(scripture taken from John chapter 3)

You Gave Your Life To God. Don’t Expect It Back.

You Gave Your Life To God. Don’t Expect It Back.

I never got a boyfriend in college. Or high school.

And I don’t say that to evoke some sort of pity from you. Really. It’s more of a fact, and one that I’ve found peace for.

But I do say it to be real, because even though I’ve never met the right guy, hardly a day goes by that I wish I will. You know… you turn a corner one day and see him and suddenly everything changes. (Maybe I’ve read too many pre-teen novels for my own good..)

Overly fantasized or not, the reality is that so many people find that person, and their lives are changed forever, and they get to live the rest of their lives with their very best friend. And for many people, this adventure happens in college, and I would be lying to say I didn’t hope it would also happen for me.

But it didn’t.

Not that I didn’t try, of course, and my close friends could tell you story after story of ridiculous things I did to try and make Boy A or Boy B notice me. (Don’t even ask about the unicorn onesie incident…) But after the first boy I liked married my roommate, and the second boy stuck me straight in the friend zone and asked me for advice on the girl he actually did like… things started to get a little discouraging.

I distinctly remember thinking that there was absolutely no way I would get through four years of a christian college without at least one guy falling in love with me. Right? I expected the world to at least give me that. (And maybe it did. But if so, I was painfully unaware.)

I would speak to juniors and seniors and learn that they were still single, and I would gawk at the romantic black hole I had walked in to. How were those people still single?! They were beautiful and wise and dedicated to the Lord. Who wouldn’t want that?

But I have learned that I put way too much stock into romance and dating and sappy Instagram posts. It embarrasses me to even think about it now, but I was indoctrinated by the culture that surrounded me. Even at a christian college, and a good one, far too much time and energy was spent on who liked who, and way too little time on the God who made us all.

 

It’s a little unsettling how much my mindset has changed since graduation a month ago. I think I was changing for years during college, but it’s like I never actually had a chance to see what it all meant for me. I was stuck – in a good way, at the time – in a decision I made as a 17 year old to attend the school I did. And I loved it, don’t get me wrong, but part of me now thinks I may have loved it too much.

Let me explain.

I was comfortable there. I cared about getting a boyfriend far more than bearing my cross. Following Jesus was a hobby for most of my college career – something I would do when I had free time but nothing worth giving my life up for. I would come for Him when I had something to gain, like comfort or proof for my beliefs.

And how sick is that? He died for me. A bloody, humiliating event. God turned away and He took it all.

I think, my whole life, I have been indirectly taught that you can have Jesus and everything else too. But can you? This post feels jumbled, but maybe that’s because I am. I feel like I just stepped off the Tilt-A-Whirl at the fair, like my head hurts and what I thought was gravity just dropped out from under me.

The reality is, I gave my life to Christ when I was 5 years old. And I had absolutely no way of knowing what that would mean for me, but God did. He took my little heart, and He began to mold it and form it and I will never forget the Saturday night my 7th grade year when I realized I wanted to live for God. I knew that night that my heart burned for Jesus, but I will admit I thought nothing of sacrifice.

I thought I could have it all and Jesus too.

And now I’m trying to figure out how I justified it all.

The rich young ruler came to Jesus and asked for life, for a place in His kingdom. And Jesus didn’t tell him to go to a comfortable christian school, marry a christian woman, have cute little christian kids and find a comfortable job to support it all. He tells him to “go, sell what you possess and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; and come follow me”.

I want to be careful here. I am not, in any way, insulting those who met their spouse at a christian college, had kids, and now work to support the family they have built. That is incredible and beautiful. What I am questioning, however, is the word comfortable.

And I’m questioning it because I see it in myself. I never dreamed of sacrifice, and consequently didn’t partake in it much. I don’t spend my life loving orphans and widows, as scripture clearly commands. I can’t even remember the last time I told somebody about Jesus who had never heard. I am sickened, sickened by what I have considered important.

Why did I never consider that I didn’t find somebody to be with at college because Jesus didn’t plan for me to find someone there? I gave my life to Jesus long ago, why do I keep expecting it back? “What does it profit a man to gain the whole world, yet lose his soul?” (Mark 8:36).

I think back to all the heartache of the past year. I think it was me losing my soul. Vain desires were rotting me. Jesus took away – withheld – so that I would face sacrifice with a hungry knowledge that this world ain’t gonna cut it. Sacrifice is the only obvious choice if I am to gain Christ.

And I must gain Christ. My soul needs Him. I don’t want to gain this world, for I die a little every time I do.

Jesus is so different than I imagined. He expects me to give it all up, everything He has given me. And yet I know – I know – that if I do, life will be there. He kept me from falling in love because He has love waiting for me – buckets and buckets of love.

But I must follow Him to find it.